


The First of Many

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Other, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-27 23:51:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10057538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry ;)





	

“Y/N,” Hotch called. “You can do this one on your own.”

You’d only started at the BAU a month ago. You never conducted your own interview before. How were you supposed to make someone confess with no physical evidence and only a profile? That’s what the team needed right now - a confession. But you needed courage and strength to gain a confession, your strength was in intelligence, like the other young agent, Dr. Spencer Reid. “Are you sure, Hotch?” you asked, your voice shaky with nervousness at the thought of interrogating someone on your own. 

“He’s handcuffed to the table, Y/N,” he replied. “He’s not going to hurt you.”

That wasn’t what you were worried about. “I mean, I’ve never conducted my own interrogation before. What if I mess up?”

“You won’t,” he said. “Take your time. Figure out your strategy. Go in when you’re ready.” With that, he walked away. Back to the rest of the team to continue working on the case in the event that you weren’t able to get a confession from him. 

Vincent Arlo. Born 25 years ago to parents Jackie and Bradley Arlo. Bradley was a mechanic, working was many hours as he possibly could in order to bring in enough to provide for his wife, oldest child Vincent, and Vincent’s twin sisters Jessica and Melanie. No matter what he made, it was never enough, and soon he turned to alcohol to cope with his wife’s incessant spending and his apparent inability to do anything right in his wife’s eyes. With the alcohol, came the abuse of his wife, and then the children. Vincent tended to be the object of his rage because he tried to protect his mother. The cycle continued and now Vincent was a family man with kids of his own that he couldn’t provide for. However, his wife claimed that Vincent had never laid a hand on her or the children and you believed her.

He was definitely the man they were looking for, but they had no hard evidence; they needed this confession to put him behind bars. But how were you supposed to go about this?

The amount of strength he’d exhibited during the killings was incredible - unhinged, which lead you all to believe that he was either naturally very violent, or he was on something during each other killings. Most likely he was drunk. All three victims were found near bars. Considering his own father’s drinking problem that he inherited and his father’s abusive tendencies, which he’d vehemently avoided, it was likely that each of the victims had said something to upset him. Maybe they were abusers like his father? That’s how you’d go about this. Plus, what was it that Gideon said, you don’t need a gun to kill someone.

“Hello, Vincent,” you said, as you walked into the room. “My name is Agent Y/F/N Y/L/N. I need to ask you a couple of questions about Jeffrey Gotthard, Martin Andreas, and Benjamin Rihard.”

“I don’t know them,” he said quickly. Too quickly. Always indicative of something deeper.

“I think you d-do. Even if you don’t know them p-personally, you know them in passing.” He still claimed to not know them, but he allowed you to continue speaking. You wanted to talk about him. Get his guard down by talking of his tragic childhood and then slip in the questions you needed answered.

“Your wife is waiting outside for you,” you started. “She said the kids are taken care of. They’re at your mother’s house. You love your kids, don’t you?”

“Of course,” he replied, taken aback by a question that seemed completely irrelevant to his situation. “More than anything in the world. They deserve better.”

“Better than what?” you asked. “Than you?” Despite the fact that in all likelihood, he’d killed these three men, he was by all accounts, a decent family man, like any other, trying to provide for his family with great difficulty.

He nodded, his eyes glazing over with emotion. “I can’t provide for them. I wanna give them a better life and I can’t.”

“But you love them,” you replied. “That means more than most people realize. You, of all people, should know that. You grew up without love - at least from your father.” At the mention of his father, he stiffened. 

“I’m nothing like my father. My father used to beat all four of us day in and day out, but he hated me the most, because I tried to take care of my mother,” he cried, as his fists shook, and in turn shook the table.

“You really hate your father, don’t you?” This was what you needed to rile him up. This would get him yelling.

“MY FATHER IS A DISGUSTING, LOATHSOME HUMAN BEING!” he screamed, standing up and placing his fists on the table. At first, you jumped back, but you needed this confession and you needed to prove yourself to Hotch, the rest of the team, as well as yourself. That you could do this. That you could handle this job. Every aspect of it. Through his teeth, Vincent gritted, “He deserves every horrible thing that happened to him for what he put me through, what he put my mother through especially.”

“Is that why you killed those men? Did they say something that made you mad? Reminded you of your father?” you said, leaning in and meeting him eye-to-eye. 

“I didn’t kill them. I don’t even know them. They just happened to be at the same bars I went to,” he replied hastily. Bingo. He admitted he saw them.

“Did Benjamin admit that his wife disgusted him? That he wished he had never married her? What about Martin? Maybe he let it slip that the last time he came home and his wife hadn’t made dinner he punched a wall to keep from hitting her - if only because she was still recovering from the last blow to the head she suffered and he couldn’t risk killing her?” Your voice had gotten so loud it had even surprised you. Your face was flush with heat, your fists were shaking. “And Jeffrey? He was very much like your father. A drunk. A serial abuser. His son recently died from a blow to the head that he claimed was sustained when he fell down the stairs. But you think Jeffrey did it, don’t you? They deserved what they got, right?” you yelled.

“YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT THEY GOT WHAT THEY DESERVED!” he screamed, so loudly, he’d strained his vocal chords.”You know that Jeffrey was laughing with his friends about how now he had one less mouth to feed? And Martin, claiming that he planned on killing his wife, he just needed to make sure the kids were out of town? Disgusting! All of them! And I don’t feel bad for what I did.”

With that, you had him. You had the confession you needed. As you stared at the cross around his neck, you said the only thing you could, even though you weren’t that religious yourself. “Then may God have mercy on your soul.” When you opened the door to leave, you expected to see no one. Hotch had left to meet up with the rest of the team. But everyone was here. Good thing you didn’t know that - you would’ve been even more nervous. 

“Well done, Agent,” Hotch said. “Great job.”


End file.
